


Habits

by evelinaonline



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Family Bonding, Gen, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Klaus Hargreeves-centric, No Incest, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23269036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelinaonline/pseuds/evelinaonline
Summary: It was worry. Not anger, not pity. Worry. Ben was worried. And Klaus owed him an explanation.
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 24
Kudos: 168





	Habits

**Author's Note:**

> sup my dudes, its me, struggling to post a fic at 1am
> 
> Based on a tumblr request about Klaus shaking when he's anxious. Also includes one of my takes on how Ben found out that drugs make the ghosts go away. Enjoy!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: While this isn't the fic's main focus, if you are sensitive to ED related stuff, I'd be cautious reading. It's a side-comment and nothing relevant to the plot, but better safe than sorry <3

_Klaus._

_KLAUS._

_Klaus, KLAUS, Klaus._

_Klaus. Klaus, KLAUS. KLAUS._

_KLAUS._

_Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. Klaus. Klaus—_

Klaus was getting tired of his name.

It wasn't as if Mom could change it again though, and even if she did, the ghosts would soon pick up on the new one. Perhaps his name wasn't the problem.

Perhaps it was the disembodied figures at every corner of the house, the limbing lurkers in the hallways, the deafening voices at night, on the afternoon, in the morning—

Perhaps it was the ghosts. The ghosts Klaus had never been able to control, even though he was practically living with them. All that was left was for them to figure out how to actually touch Klaus.

Which they would, he was sure of it. The more he grew up, the worse it got. Something about their powers maturing along with their bodies, their father had said, as if he had the solution all figured out. His methods never worked on Klaus.

Maybe he was the problem.

Klaus wouldn't put it past himself; he was the only one in the Academy that hadn't harnessed his powers, not to mention the family disappointment, and not just to their father. He could tell that everyone was getting sick of his mischief, of _him_.

Yeah. Klaus was definitely the problem.

At least he still had a few hours left till his next visit to the mausoleum.

Klaus hadn't really touched his food during lunch—the thought of being in there again made it impossible for him to eat—but no one commented on it this time. Usually Allison would nudge his arm and force him to have a few more bites, but she'd caught the flu, and wasn't at the table with them.

"Number Four, Number Six, you're on dish duty while Grace attends to Number Three's needs," their father had said after everyone else had finished, and then walked away.

Soon enough, there was no one else at the dining room but Ben and Klaus. Klaus knew it wouldn't last long—they were supposed to continue studying right after—but he decided not to think about that.

 _Focus on what you're doing,_ he told himself, and then he did.

It was time to carry all the dishes downstairs.

He placed all the forks and knives on Luther's plate, then stacked the other empty ones below it. He didn't really like touching the ones with food on them—they made him itchy. Ben could deal with those.

He stood in front of the door, trying to decide what the best route to the kitchen was, in order not to run into another talking corpse.

_Klaus._

The voice was coming from downstairs. Klaus took a deep breath and took a step forward, quickly making it to the stairs. He went down two steps at a time, and everything was going well until—

_KLAUS!_

Number Four gasped when his eyes fell upon a ghost he'd never seen before at the very end of the staircase, and while it wasn't nearly as messed up as the other ones, the bullet wounds all over its body were a little bit too distracting.

It didn't matter. He had to make it downstairs and put the dishes in the sink like he was told to, or else there'd be consequences he didn't want to face.

_Klaus…_

He needed to ignore her pleads.

_Help me, Klaus…_

He needed her to shut up.

_Klaus!_

Why wouldn't his body move?

_KLAUS. KLAUS. KLAUS!_

Why couldn't he just take another _fucking step—_

"Klaus." A gentle voice echoed in the room, pushing the ghosts' screams away. A few seconds later, he realised that someone was touching his shoulder.

_Ben._

"Yes?" Klaus said a little bit too quickly.

Ben didn't react to it, but Klaus knew he'd noticed. He always did. "You're shaking."

"Oh." He should have noticed. The dishes had started rattling, but he'd been too busy fighting with someone that wasn't even there. At least not for Ben. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Ben said, and let go of him. "Are you going to the kitchen or…?"

Klaus needed to pull himself together.

He bit his lip a little bit too hard and _finally_ managed to move his leg forward and make it to the kitchen. They made a few more runs to the dining hall to bring the rest of the plates downstairs, and soon enough, the only things left were two plates; both almost full, both barely touched.

Ben and Klaus' plates.

It wasn't too hard to guess why Ben wasn't eating again. The monster underneath his skin was probably giving him a harder time than usual. It was the same reason every time. No one ever spoke about it. At least not that Klaus knew of.

They carried them downstairs, and Ben fetched a container to put the leftovers in.

Klaus never understood why they kept them. Of course he didn't want to throw them away, that'd be a huge waste of food, but it wasn't as if Mom didn't prepare a freshly-cooked meal every single day.

_Klaus. Help me._

It took everything in him not to look at the ghost in the staircase. She was starting to get more and more persistent, but Klaus kept ignoring her. He had no other choice. He—

"You're shaking again."

_Fuck._

"I'm not."

"You are."

_Klaus._

"It's just cold down here." Klaus knew it was a stupid excuse, but he didn't know what else to say. He just needed to get as far away from that ghost as possible.

"Okay," Ben said, clearly unconvinced.

_KLAUS—_

He dropped his plate in the sink.

A loud clinking noise echoed in the room, and for a second, Klaus feared he might have broken the plate—or every other plate already in the sink—but thankfully that wasn't the case.

The ringing in his ears wouldn't go away though. At least it wasn't the ghosts, right?

"Klaus!" Ben rushed to the sink to check on the dishes, and once he made sure everything was okay, he turned to Klaus. "Sit down."

Klaus tilted his head in confusion. "What—"

"Sit. Down." There was a moment in which neither of them did anything. "Klaus, _now!"_

Klaus jumped. "Okay, jeez!" He quickly sat at the head of the table. He hadn't expected Ben to yell. "I'm sitting, I'm sitting."

Ben took a seat of his own, the closer one to Klaus' left. He fixed his posture and tangled his hands on the table, staring at Klaus in a way that he'd never done before. Klaus wasn't used to seeing him so serious. Or rather, so angry? He still couldn't understand what Ben was feeling.

"What is going on with you?" he asked in a strict voice. It was nothing close to Dad's sterness though.

"Nothing!" Klaus raised his hands up like an innocent. "Nothing out of the usual, I swear! Pinky promise and everything!"

Ben raised an eyebrow. "Out of the usual?" Klaus stayed silent. "You mean the drinking? Or the smoking? Or—are you high?"

 _High._ Now that was a word Klaus hadn't heard in a while.

He'd started experimenting with alcohol long before Five disappeared, and even cigarattes. But drugs? They were new, and they were great.

It started when he got really hurt in a mission a few months ago. He'd been shot, and he'd been put into the infirmary. Mom drugged him to remove the bullet, and that was it. The secret to not seeing ghosts.

At first he stole painkillers from the infirmary, but they weren't nearly as effective as whatever Mom had used to drug him. A few weeks later, they took down a drug dealing operation, and that was it again, for real this time.

He couldn't get his hands on drugs often. There weren't many opportunities for him to get out of the house, and barely anyone was willing to deal with a fifteen-year-old, afraid he might get them into trouble.

But they were always on the back of his mind. Always, always, always. And now that Ben brought it up, he did have an extra pill saved for tonight. Maybe he wouldn't last till then. Maybe he'd take it right after leaving the kitchen, maybe—

"Are you high?"

It was worry. Not anger, not pity. Worry. Ben was worried.

Klaus shook his head. "I wish I was."

"Jesus, Klaus," Ben mumbled. "You need to stop this, okay? You're hurting yourself—"

"Oh, now you sound just like Diego," Klaus said.

"I don't care what Diego says to you, you have to stop this."

"I'll be fine, Benny."

"How can you even say that? What happens when you try something too hard, or when you take too many pills—"

"Sure."

"—or when none of us can help you and you wind up dead somewhere without anyone knowing—"

"I don't have a _choice!"_ Klaus yelled, finally shutting Ben up.

It took a few seconds for Ben to speak again. "What do you mean?"

Klaus sighed. He was really doing this. "The drugs… They keep the ghosts at bay." He couldn't look at Ben. "I bet you wouldn't think of the consequences if someone offered you to get rid of your little tentacle friends, would you?"

Maybe he shouldn't have said that, but it seemed to get the point across. Ben didn't come back to him with any argument. Klaus could walk away now.

But he didn't.

"I'm not high," he said, in hopes to ease Ben a little. "But there's a ghost right there," he pointed at the stairs, "and another one right there," then at across the room, "and a couple of them banging at the door."

"You're scared."

Klaus huffed. "You could say that."

"That's why you're shaking."

"I guess."

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Klaus shook him off. There was another moment of silence. "How did you know about the drugs?"

Ben shrugged. "You always sneak out on Sundays," he said. "A few weeks ago, we wanted to go out for donuts, but you weren't there."

"I could have been doing something else."

"I got it out of Diego," Ben admitted. "Don't tell him I told you that. He didn't exactly say the word drugs, but it wasn't too hard to guess." Ben bit his lip. "I also noticed that your special training doesn't happen in the house," he added, and Klaus flinched. "I can hear Dad drive off every Thursday night, so…"

Klaus wasn't sure he wanted to talk about the mausoleum. Actually, he was sure he didn't want to talk about it. "Anything else?"

"Actually, yeah," Ben said. "I know it's a bit hypocritical coming from me, but you need to eat more."

Klaus huffed, cracking a smile. "Look who's talking."

"I told you it was hypocritical."

"I'll try," Klaus finally said. "But only if you try?"

Ben bit his lip. "Pinky promised and everything?" he asked shyly.

Klaus sighed but didn't resist. He held out his pinky, and wrapped it around Ben's. "Pinky promise."

He didn't really want to move. Getting up meant he was leaving this behind him, and he wasn't ready to go on with his day, not yet. He glanced at Ben, to see if he was any different, and then he noticed that—

"Hey, Ben?"

"Yes?"

"You're shaking."

Maybe the two of them had more in common than Klaus had originally thought.

**Author's Note:**

> The start of a wonderful friendship *sobs*
> 
> You can find me [on tumblr (evelinaonline)](https://evelinaonline.tumblr.com/) and I also have a Ko-fi (evelinaonline).
> 
> It's almost 1am and my braincells are kinda decaying right now, so I'll catch you all next time. Thanks for reading!


End file.
